Greenland - Em

My sister and I have heard the same things our whole lives:

An Ivy League education is expected.

Medicine and law are the only two career options.

Marry rich from the most prestigious families.

I cringe when I think about the ridiculous standards. My parents are status seekers, plain and simple. And all my friends live the exact same lifestyle. Fancy houses, prep schools, expensive clothes, trips to Paris at a moments notice.

Our whole lives are mapped out for us.

For the most part, none of my friends seem bothered by it. Why would they be? They re fine going to Harvard, Yale, Dartmouth, wherever. Theyre fine marrying who their parents tell them to. They re fine going into the family business.

Theyre just plain fine.

I guess Im fine too. I dont know any different. I like pleasing my parents and try to be the daughter I know they expect me to be. I like succeeding, having them proud of me. I embrace the whole need to have a goal thing, and I know what it takes to get to where Im going.

Im not valedictorian for nothing.

But over this last year, my senior year of high school, I began feeling like I m missing something. Like even though I have everything, theres so much more out there.

Maybe Im just nervous about graduating and starting college.

But now its the end of May, and my freshman year of college lays only a few months away. Im about to go down a path that has been planned for me probably since my conception: Ivy League university, then law school, and then a position at my dads firm.

Its actually happeningmy futureand I have no desire to do any of it. Theres more out there , Im just not sure what.

Hey, Em. Gwenny, my younger sister, plops down beside me on the couch.

I glance up from where Im supposed to be reading a file in prep for my internship.

This came for you. She flicks a green envelope at me.

Oh, thanks. I flip it over to see no return address, but the postmark reads Outer Banks, North Carolina.

Gwenny scoots in closer. Who do we know in North Carolina?

With a shrug, I run my finger under the glue and pull out a card.

My sister leans in, and I playfully hold the card so she cant see.

Oh, stop it. With a giggle, she tugs the card down.

Gwenny s the one person who can make me genuinely smile. Two years younger than me, she s my polar opposite. Free-spirited, blond, thin, full of personality, laid back, easy to get along with, not so great grades, but everything else makes up for it. I have every right to be jealous of her but have never once been. Shes just too... well, amazing.

I read the card out loud.

Dear Elizabeth Margaret,

Happy Graduation! Im so very proud of you.

Id like to invite you to spend the summer with me at my B & B, The Pepper House, located off the coast of North Carolina on Anna Island. Have your mom or grandmother call me if youre interested.

Love and smiles,

Your Aunt Tilly (Matilda)

Gwenny gives me a little push. Get out! We have an aunt? Would that be Dads or Moms sister?

I have no clue. I read the note again, confused.

Mom strolls into the living room, her sensible heels clicking on the hardwood floor announcing her arrival. Running her finger over her iPhone, she scans her messages as she walks, always working. Youd have to be if you run the pediatric ward at the nearby hospital.

She glances up. Hello, girls.

Gwenny plucks the card from my hand. Whos Aunt Tilly?

Mom nearly trips over her own feet as she stops dead in her tracks. She brings her gaze straight to Gwenny. Matilda? she whispers.

Gwennys blond brows lift as she waves the card in the air. Em just got a graduation card from an Aunt Tilly.

Mom stares at the card and several tense seconds tick by. What is going on?

Impatient, Gwenny walks the note to Mom. She takes it, clearing her throat, more composed now. Ive told you about Matilda. Youve just forgotten.

Gwenny rolls a yeah, right look my way.

Shes my younger sister, by ten years, Mom says, reading the card.

My sister and I exchange a curious look.

Grandmothers coming to dinner, Mom says, abruptly changing the subject. Please be ready by seven oclock. And dont wear jeans. You know how much your grandmother hates to see you girls in jeans. With that, she clicks her way back across the hardwood floor, my card still in her hand.

Gwenny spins around. What was that?

I have no idea, but were going to find out who this Matilda is.

She gives an excited hop. Heck yeah, we are!